SOLSTICE
by gitacchi
Summary: [NCT, Jaehyun J. x Taeyong L.] Prequel to ZENITH. Taeyong Lee has spent many nights in cold craving for unconditional love. Jaehyun Jung has waited many scorching days to melt his frozen heart. And Fate, as mysterious as she is, has spun a tale, unforgettable by both of them. un-beta-ed as usual. [JaeYong]


**SOLSTICE**

 _(noun) the longest hours of day or night_

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 **Jaehyun Jung, Taeyong Lee**

 **AU | M**

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Taeyong Lee has spent many nights in cold craving for unconditional love.

Jaehyun Jung has waited many scorching days to melt his frozen heart.

And Fate, as mysterious as she is, has spun a tale, unforgettable by both of them.

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© gitacchi

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"Happy birthday to me."

I have accustomed to this already, celebrating alone. I have stopped shedding tears at ten. I have ceased whining at seven. Nothing is going to change just because this is the 22nd times they do it to me. I check the clock. It says 00.01 AM.

Silver light seeps in from thin gaps I have purposely left on the curtains this noon. It falls on top of my blanketed legs and several furniture, creating hollow monstrosity out of its own shadow. The temperature becomes warmer. I get up and walk to nearest window. I open it wider and let midnight's fresh wind hit my face.

Lee Mansion is a memorable one. Wealth always comes in many ways when you are the top of Seoul's underground. This place has three buildings. Central is where they dwell and live like party animals. Left wing is servant's quarter. My bedroom is at right wing, on furthest point of second level, giving me full view of lavish garden below. It may be decked with four-poster bed and cabinets full with expensive attires and other luxurious things, but it still the same prison I have spent most of my life in. All of this is just a collection of rewards given by my father every time I did his dirty job well.

Or maybe he just wants to seal my mouth from running loose saying I am his son.

Sometimes I even think he expects me to die in one of the missions.

A car pulls over. I squint. I do not recognize it among frequented patrons. What kind of guest has arrived in such hour? Suddenly my heart misses a beat.

Several knocks on door draw my attention. It is rude and hasty, certainly not coming from a hand of maid. It is highly unlikely a midnight snack, or even birthday cake. I pull out my pocket knife, the only defense I have successfully sneaked in, from under the pillow and slip it on the garter belt on my inner thigh, enough to be covered by edge of sleep robe.

The knocks become more demanding.

I stare at the door.

Sure it can be anything. It can be one of those late night missions I occasionally do.

I hear owls hooting outside the window. Leaves are rustling. Wind is blowing, noisy shrill following suit. There is deafening heartbeats in my ears. When the moonlight shifts, I can see the shadow of giant tree I used to be afraid of as a child projected on the wooden slat. The murky shade is enormous, guarding the door from me. Its branches are dancing, each leaf flapping like a wave of hand. But my bedroom is still, filled with petrified air as if the minutes cease to tick.

My instinct whispers.

 _Those missions should be the last thing you think of._

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Mother once said we have to be proper when attending a funeral; elegant, clean and neat, all-black. I smooth down my suit and then button the sleeves up. It turns out to be a fine tailoring. The leather gloves even fit my hands perfectly. I think I should apologize to that maid later. I feel a bit guilty after all those shouting. But then again, it was her fault for ordering a wrong brand. I check the mirror.

A young man, eyes and jaws hardened with undying anger, greets me.

My gaze falls upon a small frame on the desk. Father and Mother are there, staying still with eternal peaceful smiles. I smile back. The white lilies of valley on vase beside are withering a bit. I will tell the maids to replace it.

"They are on the move, Sir."

The steel door shuts closed behind me.

The night is eerie with resonant silence, not even rustling leaves and whistling wind can be heard. The moonlight is persistent on illuminating the empty hallway, bright devoid of clouds hindering. My own shadow looks horrendous eating out the grey glow strewn on floor as I walk. A crow caws. I grin.

Tonight I will paint the moon red.

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since everyone has asked me for a prequel (and a sequel,) so here I am! this is my first attempt on action fic (my forte is fantasy romance actually), so forgive me if it's bad, like real bad, and confusing, even more confusing than Taeyong's veiled past on ZENITH. Just don't kill me when you're done reading this.

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to everyone who has left comment on ZENITH, **YOU ROCK!** I REALLY, REALLY APPRECIATE IT! This fic is merely a small token of gratitude compared to your lovely comments. THANK YOU SO MUCH!

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Lastly but not the last, thank you **jaeyongprotectionsquad** for promoting and leaving a nice review on my fic. You boost my confidence up to write this prequel (and the impending sequel). Let's see if your theory this afternoon is right. KEKEKEKEKEKEKEK~


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